


riptide

by soulofme



Series: sheith sentence prompts [20]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Adam/Shiro, M/M, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Underage Drinking, i love to see my boy suffer, my brand?, pre-kerberos sheith with established adam/shiro and violently pining keith, you know i had to do it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: “Love’s not supposed to hurt, Keith,” Shiro says, facing him fully. The inside of the car’s too dark for him to properly see the expression on Keith’s face.“I’m in love,” Keith says numbly. Before Shiro can respond, he adds, “and it hurts every damn day.”





	riptide

**Author's Note:**

> sentence prompt #46: take me home...please?

“I swear I didn’t know it was him,” Wilson says as he leads Shiro into the house.

He’s wringing his hands nervously as he speaks, talking so fast that Shiro almost doesn’t understand him.

“I didn’t mean to call you so late, but, uh, the others said you and him are close.”

Shiro pinches the bridge of his nose. “Where is he?”

“Bathroom,” Wilson says, pointing down the hall. “Kid’s been in there for an hour.”

Shiro sighs and walks down the hall, pausing before the bathroom door. There’s a thin strip of light at the bottom that bleeds onto his shoes, the only indication that anyone is inside.

Shiro raises his hand and knocks.

“Keith?” he asks.

He hears something clattering and tries the door. It’s locked, but before he can knock again Keith throws it open.

His cheeks are flushed red, his hair a wild, sweaty mess. The overwhelming scent of vomit hits Shiro’s nose and he wrinkles it in vain, attempting to ward off the sour scent.

“Shiro?” Keith slurs, gripping onto the doorframe. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” Shiro says, frowning as he reaches for him. “C’mon. We’re leaving.”

Keith narrows his eyes but stumbles after him. Shiro doesn’t know how he’s moving right now and makes sure to walk slow enough that Keith can catch up to him.

Wilson’s waiting at the end of the hall, rubbing his hands together. He perks up when he catches sight of Shiro.

“I’m sorry again, sir,” he says, sounding genuine. “There were a lot of people here tonight and he just…slipped in.”

“He’s underage, cadet,” Shiro hisses, watching as Wilson withers on the spot. “He had no business being here.”

“Yes, sir,” Wilson mumbles. Shiro shakes his head.

“Let’s go,” he says to Keith, who follows after him much like an obedient puppy.

Outside, he helps Keith into the car and buckles him up even when Keith shouts that he can do it himself. Shiro drives to the nearest convenience store, where he buys a bottle of water. He hands it to Keith, who stares at it in bewilderment.

“Drink up,” Shiro says gently. “It’ll help you feel better.”

Keith uncaps the bottle but doesn’t drink, tapping the cap against his leg. He scoffs softly and glares at something outside of the window.

“You didn’t have to get me,” he says, grinding his teeth hard enough that Shiro can see the muscles in his jaw jump with the action. “I would’ve gone home eventually.”

“You’re drunk out of your mind, Keith,” Shiro reminds him. “I don’t think you even know where home _is_.”

“Whatever,” Keith mutters, bringing the bottle up to his mouth.

Shiro drums his fingers against the steering wheel before he puts the car into gear and pulls away from the curb. They drive in silence for a few moments before Keith clears his throat quietly.

“Resident halls are the other way,” Keith reminds him.

“I know,” Shiro says, making no effort to turn around.

It takes them twenty minutes to get to the outlook. Keith sits up when Shiro parks, leaning towards the windshield. The car’s headlights are the only light out this far besides the moon, which hangs high in the sky and casts a soft glow over everything.

Shiro follows Keith’s gaze and finds himself staring at a massive sand dune. Keith snorts softly and his seat creaks faintly as he leans back.

“What, you had to drive me out here to give me a lecture?” Keith says. “I’m tired, Shiro. I’m not in the mood for it.”

“Why were you there, Keith?” Shiro asks, ignoring him. Keith clicks his tongue.

“Does it matter?”

“You’re eighteen,” Shiro replies evenly. “Last I checked, drinking age was twenty-one. Sounds to me like you’re three years short, buddy.”

“Oh,” Keith says, whistling sharply. “You’re good at math.”

“ _Keith_.” There’s a harsh tone to his voice, one that he can’t quite control, and he sees the way Keith crosses his arms over his chest and twists his face away.

“Don’t start.”

Shiro tongues at the inside of his cheek, considering his options.

“Why did you do it?” he settles on. Keith stiffens.

“Because I wanted to, Shiro.” He’s strangely coherent now. Maybe he’s all sobered up.

“This isn’t like you, Keith,” Shiro continues.

“You don’t know me.”

“I like to think I do, actually,” Shiro counters instantly. “Enough to know that there’s something wrong.”

Keith looks at him then, his arms falling away from his chest. He works his jaw hard once before he speaks.

“I wanted to forget,” Keith’s voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “Just for a little while.”

Shiro exhales loudly through his nose.

“And you thought drinking would help with that?”

“It did,” Keith replies tersely. “But then you showed up.”

“Excuse me for wanting to make sure you were okay.”

Shiro can’t help but to be defensive.

He was scared out of his mind when Wilson called, saying that Keith Kogane was locked in the bathroom puking his guts out. Shiro hadn’t even responded, just hung up and gotten dressed. Adam had asked him what was wrong, but Shiro was too wrought with worry to properly respond. He’d just kissed him and promised to be home soon.

“I wish you didn’t care,” Keith says. “It’d make things a lot easier.”

“What?” Shiro sits up straight in his seat. “Keith, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Keith says. Laughs, too, but it’s a bitter, nasty thing that makes Shiro frown.

Shiro doesn’t want to let it go, but he knows Keith well enough to recognize that he’s not going to weasel any answers out of him. He sits back and waits for Keith to say something, _anything_ else.

“Shiro.”

“Hm?”

There a beat of hesitation. Shiro can hear Keith swallowing.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Shiro’s knee jerks upwards and slams into the steering wheel. He swears quietly, cheeks burning when he feels Keith’s intense stare boring holes into the side of his head.

Once the pain begins to ebb away, he takes a moment to think about his answer. Before Adam, love wasn’t something he worried too much about. He loved his family, and that was all he thought he needed.

But then he met Adam, and they… _clicked_. Shiro liked it, the warmth in his stomach he got and the smile he could never hide. They had said those three magic words countless times, and yet it still feels so tender and new to him.

“Yes,” he answers finally. He hears Keith shifting in his seat.

“Does it hurt?” He’s whispering again.

“Love’s not supposed to hurt, Keith,” Shiro says, facing him fully. The inside of the car’s too dark for him to properly see the expression on Keith’s face.

“I’m in love,” Keith says numbly. Before Shiro can respond, he adds, “and it hurts every damn day.”

“Keith.” He doesn’t know what to say. His mind’s blank, still struggling to process Keith’s words. They feel like a knife in his chest, twisted over and over, each stab worse than the last. “Keith, I’m—”

“Don’t,” Keith’s voice is sharp, like a whip cracking down on him, and Shiro flinches at the sound of it. “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not,” Shiro says, but he sounds unsure of himself.

Keith leans his head against the window and doesn’t reply. Shiro watches him for a few moments, trying to think of something else to say, something to help ease the pain.

“Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“Take me home,” Keith murmurs. “Please?”

Shiro reaches for the key and twists it in the ignition. Keith’s still not looking at him, pressed against the door like he wants to get as far away as possible.

Shiro doesn’t know how to reach him. He wishes he did. He wishes he could do something, that he isn’t so damn useless to Keith now.

Wishes he could do more than just take him home and offer him a listening ear.

But he isn’t, and this is the only option he has. If it’ll make that haunted look on Keith’s face go away, he’ll do it a thousand times.

“Okay, Keith. Whatever you want.”


End file.
